Chain of Secrets
by xthose3wordsx
Summary: They were best friends when they were ten. And they both just wanted out of the rain, and away from their abusive family. He got out. But she stayed. Mitchie goes to congratulate the Shane. But he's changed, and not for the better.
1. Chapter 1

"_**I can't…pretend I don't love you. And I can't pretend you'll say you love me one day. I'm done here." **_

_Laughing erupted from the park as Shane and I skated our way through California. His arms were protectively thrown around his favorite guitar. I shook my head. I hoped one day he would hold me like that. I sighed, causing him to turn around. "Isn't this fun?!" Shane asked his face giddy. I had to laugh. Never had I seen his face so full of laughter. I mean, once you've been broken down, how does someone like him get back to his old self? Somehow, I knew he was destined for good things. We decided to cool down at my house, while my mom was away. Thank God! I was just taking my skates off when Shane brought out a guitar. "I made a song." _

_Did I mention I loved this boy? "Really?" My eyes lit up. This was it. A fun day around the park, a song. My heart fluttered as high as it could go. _

_When the song was over, I stared in awe as his hazel eyes searched mine. I couldn't find my breath and I swear he could hear my heart beating. "Who's it for?" I asked, blushing. We both knew it was for…_

"_Allison. I…I don't know what it is. But she's really amazing. I think her eyes light up whenever she smiles. I want to make her smile, too. You think she'll like it?" Shane smiled at me. I couldn't believe that. I waited for him to say, gotcha. I waited for him to kiss me and say it was a joke. My eyes filled with burning tears as the minutes rolled by without a kiss. "Mitchie…?" he reached for my hand. No! It was too late. I didn't…I couldn't stay here. It was my home, but I'd been kicked out before. I grabbed my coat just as he touched my hand. _

"_I'm going," I said, averting my eyes. Shane glanced up at me. "I can't…pretend I don't love you. And I can't pretend you'll say you love me one day. I'm done here." I wiped at the tears and ran out the room. After it all, after we spent every single day telling each other our stories. Crying into each other's arms, tending to each other's bruises. It all meant nothing. That's what I get. No one loves me. _

_**Mitchie and I could talk tomorrow. It's not like I wouldn't be able to see her…**_

_Her eyes filled with tears. I panicked. What did I do wrong? "Mitchie…?" I reached for her hand, trying to comfort her. She pulled away just as my fingers brushed her hand, grabbing at her jacket. I knew what that meant. I almost begged her not to go when she cut me off. _

"_I'm going," she said, not looking at me. What did that mean? Was she late for something? Was she angry, sad, and upset? Or did she just have to go? I glanced up at her, finding more tears building up. "I can't….pretend I don't love you. And I can't pretend you'll say you love me one day. I'm done here." Mitchie ran out. I almost stumbled after her, but my phone rang. I thought about slamming it against the wall. But, it was Allison. I had to choose. Who was it going to be? The girl I'd dreamt of dating my whole life….or the girl who was my best friend through everything? And I mean everything? I flipped open the phone. Mitchie and I could talk tomorrow. It's not like I wouldn't be able to see her…_

**Mitchie's POV: My mother moved me to California, away from Shane. And maybe, just maybe, I was fine with that…**

What hurts the most was that he didn't come after me. What hurts the most is that he didn't run from my house, chasing me and screaming for me to come back. Because if he had, I would've. I would've run back into his strong arms and let him pull me inside. We'd walk hand in hand to the police's office and tell our horrible story. His of being raped and abused, mine of being burned and being my mom's little money-maker. But he didn't, which means I'm still in this place. This means we never saw each other again. My mother moved me to California, away from Shane. And maybe, just maybe, I was fine with that…

**Shane's POV: I hated her and I was glad she moved…**

What hurts the most is that she wasn't there the next day. I sat at her doorstep for two hours. I knocked, I rang the bell, I yelled, I screamed and I CRIED. But she wasn't in that small house. I had blown it. I had let her psycho mom take her somewhere away from me and I didn't know where. I began to sob because of how selfish I had been. And then I got angry. If she hadn't waited until the last minute to say she loved me, maybe we could've been happy. It was her fault. Maybe if she hadn't ran out, I would've gotten a chance to tell her I loved her too. More than she knew. I hated her and I was glad she moved…


	2. Chapter 2

_Shane: The girl was not Mitchie, but just a girl I never knew. I was hallucinating._

No, no, NO! This was not supposed to be happening again. Nate nudged me with his guitar, which was a mistake. His fingers got caught in the strings and so ended up with a minor cut. But Nate's the sensitive type. He yelped in pain and ran off stage. But I stayed in place; arms limp at my side, mouth wide open, eyes glued on HER. Jason walked over, smiling. "Hey, Shane? You know that concert we were doing? Yeah, right now? At this minute? Well, DO SOMETHING!" Jason pushed me a little but it was enough to draw me out of my stupor.

"I'm back." I glanced back at the stage. Just as I feared. The girl was not Mitchie, but just a girl I never knew. I was hallucinating. "Okay guys, I'm sorry for the momentarily backup. We'll go get Nate and even throw in a new song we were planning to premiere next month to make up for everything. Be back in five." I ran off stage and groaned in disgust. Nate had his finger in his mouth, sucking at the blood. "Nate, do I have to straddle a diaper on you and call you Bubble butt?" Nate just stuck his tongue out at me. Jason smacked the back of my head.

"Leave him alone," Jason scolded. I flipped him off and grabbed the water someone brought. I drank it, and then spit it out.

"What the fuck is this?!" I yelled at the girl, who was probably fifteen. She cringed back. I could do that to people these days. I threw the water on her and she screamed. "Ha, it isn't so cold, is it?" I smirked, throwing the glass at her feet. She jumped back and ran off.

"Shane! What the fuck is up with you?! Ever since Mitchie…"

I punched Nate in the jaw. "Don't ever, EVER, EVER, say that bitch's name again! I'd rather DIE than hear her name again!" I stormed out, but not before I heard Nate say something that made my blood run cold.

"I QUIT!"

_Mitchie: I didn't get angry though. I could see it in his eyes. I could hear it in his voice. The way he stood, the way he smiled, the way he threw temper-tantrums. I could see it._

I smiled up at the woman who made my life Hell. She slapped me, but the grin still stayed in place. Connie pushed me away. I slammed against the heavy mahogany desk in her office. I didn't as so much as wince. This got her all worked up. Connie took a vase in her ugly hands and glared at me. Then, she set it down. I knew why. Hospital, questions, jail. Connie took a lighter out. NOW, I widened my eyes, showing the first of fear. I tried to conceal it, but I was shaking hard. Without my permission, against my will. It slipped out. "Please."

A loud scream tore through the night. It echoed in my ears, it sent shivers down my spine. It stopped Connie. I didn't know what it was, but she threw the lighter and ran for the door. I thanked God for that opportunity. I ran upstairs, forgetting the blisters on my feet, forgetting my weak and broken body for a minute. I shoved clothes, food, and blankets in a large bag. Every few minutes I would glance back just to make sure there was no one coming. This was too good to be true. Before I zipped my bag, a fist sent me onto my bed. I gasped, sliding my shaking fingers to the back of my head. It bled continuously.

She would NOT allow me to sleep, to fall into unconsciousness. Connie pulled me up by my hair. A single flame lay before my eyes, which woke me up. I screamed. "Don't, no! Connie, don't. Don't. Don't!"

I opened my eyes and it was all over. The dream escaped my brain which rattled as I screamed non-stop. I couldn't muffle the screams. I grabbed onto my pillow and shoved my face into it. The screams grew into hysterics and finally, broke into sobs. Once I had controlled myself, I touched the burn mark on my shoulder. It felt like it was screaming too. The memory only made me sink into more sobs. I thought of HIM. For the first time. The TV was on and he had just stormed off stage. This time, not like a few months ago, I watched without wincing. It was alright he made it. What was NOT alright, what was TOTALLY unacceptable and just painful, was that he never did help me.

I didn't get angry though. I could see it in his eyes. I could hear it in his voice. The way he stood, the way he smiled, the way he threw temper-tantrums. I could see it.

Shane Adam Gray missed me.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_ Mitchie: Maybe I wasn't ready to hate Shane. I sure as hell was past being in love with him. Or even liking him. Maybe I was just…done with him._

The dishes made a loud crash at my feet. I was too late. I was too slow. Shards of the glass scattered everywhere. It's too bad. That was my favorite glass. I didn't think much of the glass though. I just felt like walking straight up to Shane Gray and giving him a big old punch in his perfect nose. Maybe a good kick in his sexy ass would wake him up. My eyes were glued to the image of him with the beer in his hand. A whore on his hip. I groaned, disgusted. Yeah, that's nice. Seeing your childhood best friend/crush turning into a, a, burnout rockstar. I didn't feel any pity for him. The only person I felt bad for, the only TWO people I had an ounce of pity for, was Nate and Jason. Nate-with his broken jaw and jobless life, and Jason-with his having to deal with Shane and his bad temper. I narrowed my eyes, reaching up and clicking off the retched sight. I bent to pick up the shards of broken glass. "Oh, don't worry bout that, dear. You've got mail." I stood straight, smiling at my foster mom. She had her hair in a high pony-tail, as always, a beautiful smile on her face, as always, and a threat letter from my mom in her hand, as always.

"If you keep spoiling me, mom, the other kids are going to feel left out of your love," I said, grabbing the note in my soapy hand. Katie frowned at me. I knew why. She hated when I pitched in and did chores that I wasn't required to do. Too bad. I loved her and she was going to be pampered. To try and change the subject, I turned the TV on and grimaced. "He's going to be the next Britney Spears," I joked.

It made her laugh. "Go on in your room and read that letter. I'll clean up here," Katie chirped in her cheerful voice. I shook my head.

"No, I am going to clean up this place whether you like it or not," I muttered. Katie took a deep breath and held her hands up in defeat. "Besides, I want to work off this…" I was speechless for words. Actually, one thing came to mind. Hate. But I headed upstairs. Maybe I wasn't ready to hate Shane. I sure as hell was past being in love with him. Or even liking him. Maybe I was just…done with him. I wanted to ignore everything I heard about him and act like we were never friends.

I ripped open the letter with surprising speed, fueled by the aching sensation in my chest.

Dear Mitch, [Or Michelle],

I know we haven't talked in awhile. Well, six years is longer than awhile. But…God Mitchie you always had me speechless. I…I miss you. It may sound pointless now that I've never wrote or called, but I mean it. I'm going through some rough shit and I really hope you'll write back.

Shane

My eyes widened at his name. I sucked in a deep breath. I was neither emotionally, or willing enough to write to that…jerk. But I did want to say some last few things I never got the chance to say.

_ Shane: I just hated how he could be so, forgiving, so forgetful, so NICE._

My head throbbed and the TV spun as I stared at it through bloodshot eyes. But I could hear it, not clearly, but just enough to catch that I had been busted with beer and a slut as my new friends. So, freaking, what. Let's focus on Shane Gray and not on something more important like global warming. Hotheads. I stumbled to the living room and saw Jason sleeping on the couch. I kind of feel bad for kicking him out of the house, and then sleeping with that girl in HIS room. Jason's eyes opened, but he wasn't angry. "Morning, Shane." I glared at him. I hated him. He didn't have to do anything. I just hated how he could be so, forgiving, so forgetful, so NICE. And I was a piece of sh- "You got mail." Jason handed me an envelope. I ripped it open as he swung his feet to the floor and turned on the TV.

Dear Shane, [or asshole, whichever you prefer],

Yeah, it's been awhile since you've wrote, called, or anything that might have made me feel less worried about if you were okay. And yeah, I bet you're speechless with that freaking hangover. Ha, maybe I'm being a little too mean. Oh wait, but wasn't that what you were being to Nate? Damn, everything seems to be coming down to you, you, you, hotshot. So, you're going through some rough shit. Here's an idea. Stop doing the stupid stuff you're doing now.

Mitchie

P.S. You missing me doesn't sound pointless. It sounds like bull.

Jason must have read the miserable expression on my face because he took the letter from me. I took a deep breath. Well, two could play at that game.

**A|N: Hope you liked it. :D Sorry I didn't put too much of Shane on. I just got super-tired. –yawn- So, review if you liked it. (: **


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